


a place to call home

by WriterInWonderland



Series: The Safe Haven [1]
Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:02:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23665828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriterInWonderland/pseuds/WriterInWonderland
Summary: How 'The Death Cure' by James Dashner should have ended.Basically a re-write from Page 197, after Thomas reads Newt's note.
Relationships: Newt/Thomas (Maze Runner)
Series: The Safe Haven [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1732561
Comments: 15
Kudos: 151





	1. Denver

**Author's Note:**

> 'Kill me. If you've ever been my friend, kill me."

THOMAS:

Thomas felt numb. In the two nights after he read that terrible note from Newt, it felt like he was just drifting through the motions. He’d decided not to tell the others about the note, but they could tell that something was wrong - more than leaving Newt in that awful place, anyway. Minho had tried to drag it out of him, but Thomas just shrugged him off and chose to spend a lot of his time alone while the others discussed their next move. Because this numbness was suffocating him; consuming him. Every night he would recall every good memory he had with Newt, replaying them in his head over and over. It was all that could keep him sane while his brain was on shut down. His eyes would prick with tears, but he didn’t let any fall; that would mean that this horrific world had won, and he wasn’t done fighting yet.

  
Thomas was sitting against the wall of the Berg in a dark corner of one of the rooms, knees tucked up to his chin when Minho started calling for him. The light flicked on and Thomas squinted into the harsh brightness, resting his forehead to his knees.

“You can’t hide in the darkness forever, mate,” said Minho. When Thomas didn’t reply, the boy sighed and came to sit down beside him, mimicking Thomas’s position, “You know he’s not dead, right?”

  
“He may as well be,” Thomas muttered, raising his head slightly to look at his friend, “I never realised...”  
_...How much he meant until now._  
But Thomas would never finish that sentence in front of Minho who had known Newt so much longer than he had. Sometimes he forgot that they had spent two years together, whereas Thomas had known them for a matter of weeks. It felt like so much longer.

  
“It’s okay,” said Minho, “But you can’t keep going with this shuck sulking forever. We’re getting off of here soon, and we’re going to find Gally and the Right Arm. And you are coming with us. It’s what Newt would have wanted.”

  
“Don’t use that excuse on me,” Thomas said, standing up to distance himself from the boy, “You don’t know what he wanted.”

  
“And you do?” Minho retorted.

  
Thomas froze, glancing around once before marching from the room, anger seeping through his veins. He needed to cool off before he did something he’d regret. They’d been cooped up in here far too long together and Thomas was getting irritable and snappy with his friends - and so was Minho, apparently. It was about time they made their next move, whatever the others decided on. Nothing could penetrate Thomas’s brain except the dark fog that was consuming him; whispering Newt’s name over and over.

  
-

  
The next morning, Thomas showered and joined the others for a quick breakfast in the main room of the Berg.

  
“Here he is. Not to be rude, but you look like a piece of klunk,” said Minho as Thomas sat down, resulting in Brenda shooting the boy a cold glare in response.

  
“So what’s the plan?” Thomas asked, ignoring Minho’s comment and spooning the food into his mouth. He hadn’t been able to stomach anything for days, so this must be progress.

  
Jorge cleared his throat before explaining what the three of them had decided while Thomas was having his little meltdown- they would enter the city and head to Gally’s apartment to meet with the Right Arm and discuss what their next move was going to be against WICKED.  
It was a loose plan, but Thomas had to agree that it was the best they had. Where else would they go from here? There was nothing for them if they didn’t join the Right Arm now.

  
So Thomas nodded in agreement, never trying to argue back against this plan that he’d had no involvement in for once. But he must have been only half listening because his whole body jerked when he heard Newt’s name mentioned.

  
“What was that?” he asked.

  
“Do you remember what Newt said? About the Cranks maybe trying to break out of the Palace and get into Denver?” said Brenda, “It could be a possibility that they do it while we’re in the city…”

  
Thomas bit down hard on his lip as his brain spiralled yet again. False hope bloomed inside his head at the possibility of seeing Newt again, but he knew that it wouldn’t be Newt by then. He would have been taken by the Flare, a ghost of the boy he once was…

  
“Let’s just go,” Thomas said, more harshly than he’d intended, “Do what we’re planning to do and figure out what we’re doing with our lives. We’ll think about anything else when it comes up.”

  
“Sounds promising,” said Minho.

  
-

  
“Let me do the talking again,” Jorge said.

  
Brenda nodded, “And when we get inside, we’ll find a cab and head straight to Gally’s apartment.”

  
“Fine,” Minho muttered, “Let’s just quit this shuck yapping and go.”

  
Thomas couldn’t have said it better himself. He could already feel his head slowly stop spinning with endless thoughts, allowing him to actually consider what they were about to get themselves into.  
Jorge pressed a button on the wall and a huge ramp of the cargo door started to pivot downward, extending out onto the concrete of the airport floor. The process was identical to last time, not a fault from Jorge as he listed their names before one of the iron doors swung outward, squealing just as loudly.  
As soon as they were out of the viral testing station, where none of them had suddenly become infected, Jorge hailed the only cab parked at the side of the road, spookily quiet, unlike last time. The driver wore a protective face mask and didn’t say a word when they requested their location, simply looking at them with deadened eyes as if he would really rather be anywhere else than here.

  
“Where’s everyone gone?” Minho asked, which was when Thomas realised that even the streets were mostly deserted; void of humanity. Last time, people had roamed the walkway and vehicles cluttered the roads, but now they were the only moving object in sight.

  
The driver huffed in response, “There are rumours that the virus is spreading throughout the city. Everyone in their right mind is staying inside.”

  
As if on cue, a sick looking man wandered out into the road in front of the taxi, causing the car to swerve violently, just missing the man. The driver swore and repositioned his face mask nervously as if he could catch the virus from this distance.

  
“Y’all should really put on your masks,” he said, voice gruff.

  
Thomas went to tell the man that they didn’t actually need them because they were Immune, but Jorge cut him off before he could speak, “The apartment is just off the road so we’ll be fine.”

  
The car eventually pulled to a stop outside the derelict apartment, Jorge paying the driver the extortionate but probably reasonable price. Thomas knocked confidently on the door this time but took a sudden step back when a Launcher was thrust in his face.

  
“It’s just us!” Thomas exclaimed, hands in the air.

  
Gally grunted, lowering the Launcher, “Just being careful,” he muttered before yelling behind him, “Vince, they’re here!”

  
“Vince? Who the shuck is Vince?” Minho asked as Gally opened the door for them, allowing them back inside.

  
A few plastic chairs had been brought into the dimly lit room, and a large man sat in one of them looking tired and dishevelled. He had an air of authority about him in the way he held himself, despite his girth, and Thomas couldn’t help but feel a pang of anxiety in his gut.

  
“We’re glad you came,” Gally said, taking a seat beside the man and gesturing for the group to sit opposite, “This is Vince. And it appears that the end of the world may not be upon us after all.

  
“What changed?” Jorge asked, leaning forward in his seat.

  
Gally gestured for Vince to answer and the large man cast his gaze coldly over each of them in turn as if staring deep into their souls. It was off-putting and uncomfortable, and Thomas wished he’d stop.

  
“Answer me this first: who are you?” Vince asked.

  
“Uh, I’m Thomas, this is Min-”

  
Vince shook his head in exasperation, “No, I know your names - Gally told me everything about you that I needed to know. What I meant is what are your motives? What do you want from the Right Arm?”

  
“We want what you want,” Thomas explained, “If you know us, you know what WICKED have done to us. We want to help put things right.”

  
Gally smiled slightly with his arms crossed in front of his chest, the scars covering his face wrinkling. Thomas wondered how long it would take for them to fade - if they would ever fade.

  
“That brings me back to your first question,” Vince said, “One of my sources has informed me of WICKED’s latest development. The Immunes they were rounding up were not used for trials, but for the extraction of an enzyme produced by their brains. They’ve been testing it on Cranks and it seems to destroy the virus - neutralize it and break it down.”

  
“So you’re telling us that WICKED have found a cure?” Brenda asked.

  
“Yes. I am.”

  
Thomas felt his heart flip and come crashing down to the floor, shattering all over again. If a cure exists, Newt could get better. But not with them. He’d be alone with all those other Cranks, virus or no virus, and no way to get back to his friends…

  
“WICKED don’t have plans to release it, though,” Vince said, breaking Thomas from his thoughts, “The cure only seems to work on a one-time basis, and the virus can be caught again if the person comes into contact with it. It would be a huge waste of resources and money.”

  
“What are they doing with it then?” Thomas asked angrily.

  
“Changing it… adapting it, apparently, which will take far too long. That’s why a group has been sent over to WICKED headquarters to acquire some of the cure and bring it back to us,” explained Vince.

  
“What's the Right Arm going to do with it then?” asked Minho.

  
Vince smiled at them, “We have people in every city and town. Over the past few months, a few safe locations have been built to accommodate Immunes, non-Immunes, and possibly even Cranks. The Right Arm are doing what WICKED will not do - preserve the little humanity that is left. But with the cure, we can do so much more. Bring in Cranks and cure them of the virus, starting to reinforce safety into this world.”

  
The group remained silent once Vince had stopped talking, soaking up all this new information - Thomas found it hard to believe that the Right Arm could pull this off, but the look on Vince’s face made it clear that he believed they could. And who was Thomas to argue?

  
“How are they getting the cure?” Jorge asked, “The building is secure, there’s no easy way in or out as we discovered.”

  
“The girl came up with the brilliant idea of wearing guard uniforms to get inside,” Vince explained, “With the help of some of our own people, they should do just fine.”

  
It took Thomas a second for it to click in Thomas’s head, and when it did he felt a surge of hope.  
“Who’s the girl?” he asked.

  
Gally looked at him with a knowing smile on his face, “Teresa.”

  
So that confirmed his suspicions - their friends were barreling headfirst into the belly of the beast, and doing so willingly. If they had enough reason to risk their lives like this for the Right Arm, Thomas couldn’t deny these people his trust.

  
“Her group were all in with our plan,” said Vince, “Once they knew that someone had to do it, the girl was eager to jump in. She said she knows the building.”

  
“What about the Immunes?” asked Thomas, “Are they getting them out?”

  
Vince sighed, “It isn’t a rescue mission, Thomas. The extraction of the enzyme hasn’t left them very… _well._ ”  
“What do you mean by that?” asked Brenda.

  
The man snarled unpleasantly, “The point of no return is what I mean.”

  
So WICKED had done it again - hurt more Immunes, ruined more lives. How many more people would it take before they found the perfect cure? How many more lives would be destroyed?

  
“So what’s the plan?”


	2. don't let go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Cranks are breaking into Denver.
> 
> But is Newt going to be with them?

THOMAS:

Vince didn’t get very far in explaining the plan before a distant echoing boom rumbled in the distance.

Gally sprung to his feet, “What in this shuck world-”

“The Cranks,” Thomas said quickly, “They were planning to break out of the Palace and come to Denver. What if they’re already here?”

Vince ran a hand across his face in exasperation, “I’ll radio over, see if anyone knows what’s going on.”

A second, louder explosion sounded causing Thomas’s heart to jolt with anxiety. He didn’t want to be anywhere near this city if the Cranks managed to get in, but he seemed to be right in the middle of it at exactly the wrong time.

Except… maybe it wasn’t so wrong after all. A flash of hope sparked inside him as realisation dawned.

_Newt._

What if he was still with the Cranks trying to break in?

Vince’s radio crackled and a voice suddenly came through, “Can confirm the attack. What’s our move?”

“All associates of the Right Arm,” Vince spoke into the device, “Get yourselves out of this city immediately. Wear your protective masks and bring anyone who you’re sure is not infected.”

Jorge informed Vince of the position of their Berg and the message was transmitted through the radio. So this was it - they were getting out of here. Vince caught the eye of each person in the room before nodding once and marching towards the door, “I have a van that can take us to the wall. After that, it’s run for your lives or be eaten by a damn Crank.”

“Sounds delightful,” said Minho as he slapped Thomas on the back and followed the man from the room, “But running is what I do best, thank you very much.”

In Vince’s van, Thomas sat beside Minho who kept bouncing his leg up and down nervously. They weren’t the only vehicle heading that way - they’d seen two more vans on the road who Vince had beeped the horn at in greeting.

“Do you think Newt’s gonna be there?” Thomas whispered to his friend.

Minho’s head snapped around to him and he paused before replying, “Yeah. It’s a possibility.”

As they neared the entrance to the city Thomas could see thick smoke and flames licking up the sides of the walls. What caught his attention was the giant hole in the wall, crumbling after something had clearly made one hell of an explosion. The Red Shirts had gathered on their side of the wall but Cranks were drawing nearer and nearer. And there were a lot of them.

How would they ever find Newt in this mob?

As fast as they were being shot at, more were barrelling through the hole they’d created in the wall in a desperate attempt to infiltrate the city. Some of them held Launchers and guns, shooting at the Red Shirts and sometimes even hitting them despite their poor aim.

“I’m going to park up here,” Vince shouted from the front, “The other vans should do the same, then we need to move. Launchers and guns are in the back.”

Minho dished out the weapons from the back of the van, settling on a Launcher for himself. Thomas took a handgun, not wanting the extra weight of a Launcher in case they found Newt. _When_ they found Newt.

“Anyone wanna give a pep talk?” asked Gally.

“Be careful, don’t die,” Minho said sarcastically.

Thomas rolled his eyes, remembering that those were the exact words the boy had said before they all entered the maze, “You can’t say that every time we go into battle, Minho!”

“Why in shuckin’ hell not?” he retorted before placing a hand on the door handle, “Let’s just go, yeah?”

Vince nodded and they all piled out of the van, noticing the five vans that had approached them from behind, parking up just behind them. As people came out of the vans wearing their protective masks, Vince gave them the thumbs up and they all started running towards the wall. It was only a few hundred feet, but it felt like an eternity.

“Thomas, let’s go!” yelled Minho as they passed the Red Shirts and exited the hole in the wall, “We have to try and find Newt.”

Thomas almost stumbled over a chunk of rubble, his heart pounding against his chest as he regained balance and took a look around him. The Red Shirts had been easy to get past, but there were so many Cranks out here and so many weapons to be faced with.

Thomas gasped as a bullet streaked past his head, then a rock almost collided with his stomach, thrown by a mad looking woman in front of him. She went to throw another, but Minho shot her with his Launcher, her body convulsing with electricity.

“Nice shot,” Thomas said as his friend pulled him away from the mass of Cranks and towards the wall. He wondered how far past the Gone some of them were.

He noticed Brenda kick someone in the head when they crawled up to her, Jorge right behind the girl shooting her attacker in the leg. More of the Right Arm associates were also sprinting through the crowds of Cranks and Thomas winced when one of them was tackled to the ground and pounced on. 

“Come on, keep your shuck eyes open!” Minho yelled at him as he shot a Crank in the back when he made a move on Thomas.

But Thomas’s attention was now completely taken away by the arrival of another Berg a slight distance away from the one they were all heading towards. Luckily, it caught the Cranks' attention too and the boys took the opportunity to run through the masses.

Thomas could only pray that it was Teresa and the others - if they had the cure on them, they needed to find Newt and give it to him as soon as possible. They could save him now, and Thomas was not going to fail him again.

“Is that him?” Minho yelled, pointing towards the very back of the group.

Thomas’s gaze fell to where the boy was pointing and his breath hitched in his chest. A single figure stood alone, head hung low as if confused about what he was doing here. And it was so distinctly  _ Newt _ that Thomas could have cried. 

Both boys yelled his name, sprinting ever closer until Newt lifted his head and caught sight of his two friends. A look of pure confusion crossed his face before it crumpled into a look of heart-wrenching despair. 

“Tommy…” he said, Thomas able to read his lips now they were close.

A sudden gunshot rang in his ears which was the moment his heart shattered into a billion pieces. Newt’s mouth was a wide O in shock as blood started seeping from his side. His eyes rolled back into his head and Thomas lunged to catch him, a scream of horror roaring from his mouth.

The world turned hazy as Thomas fell to his knees, Newt in his arms. This couldn’t be happening. Not when they were so close to safety. 

All he could see was Newt and the never-ceasing blood that was pouring from the wound. A ball of rolled-up fabric was thrust into his hands, and Minho yelled at him to hold it against his side to try and stop the bleeding. The words were muted, but Thomas did as instructed, tears streaming down his cheeks as he took in sharp, desperate breaths. 

He wasn’t sure how long had passed before Minho came sprinting back towards him, Thomas unsure when he had even left. In his hand was a syringe of some clear liquid which he injected quickly into Newt’s neck.

_ The cure. _

Thomas’s arms were shaking, but determination took over as he pressed the already damp ball of the fabric against Newt’s side, sweat beading on his forehead from the pressure he was exerting. 

“We have to get him to the Berg,” said Minho.

Behind Thomas, footsteps pounded the concrete and Brenda’s voice was the one he heard next, “You’re right. We can’t do anything more out here. The Cranks may shoot again and that’s the last thing we need. I’ll grab his legs - Thomas, you keep the pressure on, and Minho can help me carry him.”

His friends managed to lift Newt up while Thomas kept the pressure exerted on the wound, having to use both hands to do so - one holding the fabric and the other on the boy’s back.

Seeing his friend like this made his heart ache, but a new sense of purpose now fuelled him. He’d spent days thinking about this boy he’d considered to be as good as dead, and yet here he was. 

Teresa and Aris had run up behind Thomas as they moved closer and closer to the Berg, defending them against any incoming Cranks or bullets. 

“Keep going!” Teresa yelled, “The others are already on there!”

Thomas tried not to think about the way his shirt and hands were stained with Newt’s blood, a deep crimson against the plain cotton. If it meant that Newt lived, he didn’t care what extent he had to go for him. This was nothing, really.

Teresa and Aris hung back as the three of them tore up the ramp to the Berg, closely followed by a man clutching his arm. A few last shots were fired off before Teresa stepped back onto the Berg and pressed the button closing the ramp, sealing them off from the terrible world outside.

They were finally safe. All that needed to happen now was for Newt to be okay, and the world would have righted itself. Was that too much to ask?

-

“You’d better have given him that serum,” Vince hissed, “Or every one of us who isn’t Immune is going to be infected.”

“I’ve done it,” Minho replied as Newt was lowered onto the steel floor of the Berg. The whole ship shuddered as it ascended, Jorge at the controls, and Thomas winced as he anticipated the pain that judder must have caused Newt.

“Any medics around here?” Brenda yelled, only to be met by a sea of helpless faces. 

Frypan had torn another piece of fabric from his top and handed it to Thomas who put it over the already bloodied up ball. The blood was lessening, but there was still too much.

“Come on, Newt,” Thomas murmured as he put all his weight onto the wound, “Stay with me.”

Vince had tried to give them some space by ushering all the onlookers into a different room, and now it was just their friends gathered around Newt who lay bleeding out on the floor. 

“Looks like he’ll need stitches,” Brenda said, “That bullet will need to be surgically removed as well.”

“There are doctors at the Safe Haven,” said Vince.

“How long until we get there?” Thomas grunted, his arms shaking.

Vince paused before answering, “A few hours. You should take it in shifts to keep up the pressure - each ten minutes tops.”

Thomas knew that he would have stayed in this position for hours if it meant that Newt lived, but he had to admit that someone else would probably do a better job at applying pressure now that his arms felt like complete jelly.

“Thomas, want me to take over?” Gally asked.

Thomas paused before answering, “Yeah, sure.”

The boys switched roles, Gally springing into action and using all that muscle to press down firmly on the wound. Thomas felt like he could relax a little now that the bleeding had slowed to a bearable rate, so he sat down beside Newt on the opposite side to the injury and placed his jacket under the boy’s head. Newt’s skin was ghostly pale and when Thomas reached out a hand to touch the boy’s cheek, he found that it was cold, too. Impulsively he reached to feel for Newt’s pulse even though he could see his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths. The soft thrum against his fingertips gave him a flood of reassurance - Newt’s life had been in Thomas’s hands when he’d needed him the most, and he hadn’t failed him. He’d managed to keep the boy alive.

“Tommy…” Newt whispered, lips hardly moving.

He quickly retracted his hand from the boy’s neck with his surprise at hearing his name stutter from his lips and he felt cold fingers wrap feebly around the wrist supporting his weight.

“Hey, Newt,” he said, a smile forming across his face, “How are you feeling?”

The boy took a deep inhale of air and his eyes fluttered open, landing on Gally before reaching Thomas.

“Gally…? I’m in heaven, aren’t I?” Newt asked softly, not able to keep his eyes open against the harsh fluorescent lights, “Or hell.”

“Newt, you’re not dead,” Thomas said, but the boy didn’t seem to have heard.

“Tommy, no-no-no… you’re not meant to be dead…” Newt mumbled.

“You’re not dead,” Thomas repeated, raising his voice slightly.

“Where’s Chuck-”

“Newt, you’re not shuckin’ dead, okay?” Thomas said loudly, causing him to receive many looks of confusion which he let slide for the moment.

Thomas repositioned himself and took Newt’s limp hand in his own, gently tracing his knuckles with his thumb. 

“I’m sorry,” Newt whispered as his eyes rolled back into his head, “I’m sorry, Tommy.”

“It’s okay, Newt. You’re okay. We’re gonna get through this, yeah?” Thomas said, “You can fight through this. I need you to. I need you.”

But Newt had fallen back into unconsciousness, the pain and the blood loss finally getting to him. Thomas sighed and lay down on the floor beside Newt, interlocking their fingers and not caring about any onlookers. All he cared about was Newt. And now that he had him, he wasn’t going to let him go.


	3. i need you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They arrive in the Safe Haven and Newt is taken to the hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also enjoy the first of Newt's POV (about halfway through)
> 
> :)

THOMAS:

Thomas awoke, immediately feeling disorientated. He couldn’t remember falling asleep but could tell that he must have because his head still felt groggy with it. He could hear his friend’s voices, amongst others he didn’t recognise. 

Then everything suddenly came flooding back to him; Denver, the Cranks, Newt being shot, Newt. Thomas bolted upright which was when he realised that his fingers were still intertwined with Newt’s who lay unconscious beside him. He quickly pulled his hand away and noticed that Minho was the one keeping pressure on his wound now and he smirked at Thomas when he caught his gaze.

“Morning princess,” the boy said. 

Thomas groaned, rubbing his eyes, “What time is it? How long was I asleep?”

“‘Bout an hour,” Minho said, “Want to take over?”

“Give me a second to wake up, man,” said Thomas, rubbing a hand over his face.

He felt guilty for falling asleep and letting everyone else help with keeping the pressure on Newt’s injury, but he felt the most rested he had in days. Thomas had hardly slept with worry over Newt, and now that he was here with them he could finally relax; finally breathe. 

“I got it,” Thomas said, shuffling over to Minho and taking the fabric in his hands, immediately applying the pressure it needed. To Thomas’s relief, the bleeding had majorly ceased.

“We could tie something around it soon,” Minho explained, “It’s pointless for us to keep physically exerting pressure on it if a bandage would do the same thing.”

“I know nothing about medical stuff, so I’ll take your word for it,” said Thomas, “How long until we get to the Safe Haven?”

“Two more hours,” Vince said as he passed them by, nodding at Thomas.

Minho clapped him on the back, joining their friends on the seats a few meters away. It was only now that Thomas realised just how many people were on the Berg - his friends, minus a few faces that had been with them before, and a load of Right Arm associates from Denver. It was surreal to know that they were actually being taken to safety this time. No more lies, no more tests. This could be the start of the rest of their lives. 

And he would get to share that with Newt.

“Hey, Tom,” Teresa said, kneeling down beside him, “You okay?”

“Fine. Hey, I wanted to thank you,” Thomas started, “Getting the cure from WICKED… that was brave. Newt wouldn’t be here if…” he trailed off, not allowing himself to finish that thought. 

“We couldn’t save Miyoko or Jackson... I don’t know what happened to the five of you, but I’m just glad that one life was saved at least,” Teresa said.

Thomas nodded, not willing to elaborate on what had gone down during their time apart. The last time he’d seen Teresa and the others was before they all went in to have the Swipe removed. Which reminded him...

“Do you have your memories?” Thomas asked, “Did they remove the Swipe?”

Teresa shook her head, “They didn’t get the chance. But I hear that Gally has his back. Not that he’s telling us anything about before the Maze.”

“Why not?” asked Thomas, readjusting his position.

“He won’t say. But Thomas, I wanted to talk to you about what happened with me and Aris…” 

“I don’t want to hear it,” Thomas interrupted, “It doesn’t matter anymore - none of it matters. I just want to move on now, okay?”

Teresa nodded, a small smile crossing her face, “So, friends?”

“Friends.”

  
  
  
  
-

  
  
  
  


The Berg shuddered as it descended down into the Safe Haven, lights flickering slightly and hydraulics whirring. Nerves filled Thomas’s stomach at the thought of seeing their new home for the first time - he had no gauge on what it might be like and no expectations. After what they’d been subjected to, he knew that anything remotely safe would be enough. 

Thomas had hardly left Newt’s side the whole journey, helping bandage him up to keep the pressure on the wound, move him onto a mattress, and to watch over him while he remained unconscious. He hadn’t woken up since before Thomas had fallen asleep, but it was probably for the best. The pain must be unbearable, or the boy would have certainly woken up by now.

“The doctors are going to take Newt straight to the hospital as soon as we land,” Vince said, “I told them what had happened as soon as the connection was good enough.”

“Thanks, Vince,” said Thomas, smiling at the man.

It turned out that Vince was true to his word - as soon as the ramp of the Berg pivoted downward, a man and a woman rushed into the Berg with a stretcher, the crowd of people onboard parting to allow them through. The woman checked his pulse and breathing, before nodding to her partner.

“I’ll help,” Thomas said, rushing in to rest his hands under Newt’s back, assisting the doctors with lowering him onto the stretcher from the mattress.

The woman smiled at him as she took one end of the stretcher, Thomas lurking to see if he could do anything more to help, “Thanks. We’ve got him from here.”

Reluctantly Thomas stepped back, watching his friend be rushed off of the Berg and out into the Safe Haven. He hoped these people knew what they were doing - that was his best friend’s life in their hands, after all. A hand on his shoulder was what snapped Thomas out of his thoughts and he realised that the group had begun piling out of the Berg, getting the first look at their new home.

As Thomas stepped out onto the ramp of the Berg, the first thing that hit him was the air - it was so clean; so fresh. And was that…

No. It couldn’t be.

That was the ocean - glistening in the sunlight; shards of light reflecting off the gentle waves. Thomas stood, mesmerised by the spectacle before him, and in disbelief that this was their new home. 

“I’ve been shucked and gone to heaven,” Minho murmured beside him.

Thomas made a sound of agreement, tearing his eyes away from the mass of blue and taking a three-sixty look around him. A large building stood far to the right, another small building a slight distance from it. In the middle of the lawn was a wooden hut, and to the left appeared to be a half-mile of empty fields. What caught his attention was the hut at the top of the hill, where the two doctors were carrying Newt towards - that must be the hospital.

“This place is gorgeous,” said Thomas as he walked over to his group of friends who all looked as gobsmacked as he felt.

“It’s stunning,” Sonya said, “And is that a beach I see?”

-

“Listen up!” Vince called, gesturing for everyone to gather around him, “I know how you all must be feeling about this place - it is pretty spectacular. But there are a few things I need to say before you all go running off like headless chickens. More Bergs will be arriving eventually, so please don’t freak out when they do. Immune children, teens and some uninfected adults will be joining us in this Safe Haven. In terms of rules, there are only two; no going past the boundary, and no injuring other members of the Safe Haven.”

Minho leaned in towards Thomas, “Sounds familiar.”

Thomas rolled his eyes and nodded, returning his focus to Vince.

“Molly will be the second leader - she’s also a doctor, so will have her work cut out while she deals with your friend,” Vince nodded at Thomas, “But feel free to go to her if you need anything. I want us to feel like a family here, to trust each other and lean on each other's shoulders. Some of you have been through an awful lot, but this is your time to rest. Well, until we sort out job allocation, anyway. Molly will come to that when everyone has arrived, which should be in the next two days.”

“Where are we sleeping?” Teresa called out.

Vince gestured behind them, “You’ll have to ask the people who set this place up. It’s thanks to them that all this exists, by the way. But I’m sure you can work it out for yourselves. Now, excuse me while I have a word with Jorge…”

Thomas immediately turned to Minho, impatience growing inside him. He wanted to see Newt and find out exactly what the doctors were going to do with him.

“Fancy giving those Runners legs a stretch?” Thomas asked, gesturing towards the hut on the hill.

“You bet,” Minho said before taking off in a sprint, Thomas close behind him.

It felt good to feel the pound of his shoes against the grass - a steady and rhythmic beat. But for once, they weren’t running from anything. 

When the boys reached the top of the hill, Thomas took a moment to catch his breath and look out at the whole expanse of their new home. Thomas noticed that the fields ran parallel to the sea, separated by what looked like a small cliff - it was a vast area, a lot larger than anything they’d had in the Glade. That would certainly be a beautiful place to work.

-

Thomas squinted into the dimly lit hospital, pausing in the doorway to allow his eyes to adjust to the muted light. When they eventually did, his breath caught in his throat. Newt was lying motionless on a bed in the far corner of the room, tufts of blonde hair spiking from his head. 

He stepped further into the room and Minho placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, sensing his nerves. A blonde woman had her back to them, preparing some medical equipment on a table by Newt’s bed, and a middle-aged man nodded to them as they entered. 

“We’re about to perform the surgery to remove the bullet,” he explained, a strange calmness to his voice, “The sooner we do it, the better.”

“How long will it take?” Minho asked quickly, worry etched across his face.

“Not long - around 1 hour. It’ll be a few days before he will be upright again, possibly longer considering the state his body is in,” he lowered his voice, “But try not to worry, we know what we’re doing. Besides, Molly has dealt with this kind of thing countless times before. We’ll have your friend fixed up in no time.”

Thomas gave him a half-smile, grateful for the reassuring words, but still felt fear twist in his gut. He drifted over to Newt’s bed, the boy lying peacefully, almost as if he was asleep. Thomas crouched down and ran a hand across Newt’s cheek which still felt cool to the touch. 

“It’s going to be okay,” he whispered, voice barely audible, “You can get through this, Newt. This place… I can’t be here without you. I need you…”

NEWT:

Newt awoke suddenly, gasping for air. Pain ripped through his side so unbearably that he could have easily fallen back into unconsciousness if he let himself. But Newt forced air into his lungs, the fire slowly dulling to a slightly throbbing burn. 

“Newt?” came a voice from beside him, “You okay?”

He turned his head around to find himself staring into those ocean eyes he knew and loved, the boy watching him with uncertainty and caution.

“Tommy,” Newt whispered, head suddenly swimming slightly.

He realised with a start that he had no recognition of anything that had happened over the past few days - snippets and sounds flooded through his head, but none of the pieces fitted together. The last thing he could remember was watching Thomas sprinting towards him, then the intense pain ripping through his body. But nothing added up - the familiar cloud that had consumed his brain was now gone; completely cleared. So what had happened to him?

“It’s good to see you,” said Thomas, snapping him from his thoughts.

“Where the bloody hell am I?” Newt slurred, his words involuntarily forming one, “What- How?”

“Hey, I can explain everything,” Thomas said, leaning back into his chair, “I guess it started from when we met Gally and the Right Arm in Denver…”

“Wait,” Newt interrupted, “Gally?”

“Yeah, Gally’s alive. Do you not remember on the Berg?” Thomas asked, his expression contorting into something that Newt didn’t recognise.

“No, Tommy,” he admitted.

Thomas nodded and continued, “WICKED took him in, but they’d done too much psychological damage for him to be of any use. They gave him his memories back, but he won’t say a thing… Anyway, the Right Arm is the organisation that set up the place we’re staying in. They have so many people all over the country, in many different Safe Havens - that’s what this place is called.”

Newt couldn’t keep the smile off his face at hearing the boy ramble on but nodded to show that he was listening, “Safe Haven. Right.”

“Teresa and some of the others went into WICKED and got some of the cure that they developed,” Thomas explained, “We gave it to you.”

“Cure?” Newt asked. 

It made sense - the absence of the fog in his brain, the anger that was no longer consuming him with every second…

“You’re better. They’ve been testing your blood and it’s come away negative every single time,” said Thomas.

Newt let out a huge breath of air that he hadn’t even realised he’d been holding, turning his head to look up at the ceiling. This was a lot to take in. He knew he should be dead right now. He’d begged for it, even. Because the pain of forgetting himself was certainly worse than death.

A new memory flooded through his head - of screaming at Thomas for having ‘a lot of bloody nerve coming here’, for turning his Launcher on his friends, the note he’d given Thomas…

Tears pricked at his eyes and he took in a shaky breath, “I’m so sorry Tommy. For before. I didn’t mean… I didn’t want…”

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay,” Thomas said as he placed a hand on Newt’s shoulder, “It wasn’t you.”

And that’s when he lost it completely. The tears flooded out of him, emotion slicing through his heart. With every sob, pain ripped through his body. But Thomas was right there beside him, clinging onto his hand and watching helplessly as Newt broke down in front of him. 

Every ounce of pain that his heart had held now spilled out of him, splattering the world with all his sorrow and anguish. Because this terrible world deserved to know just how broken he was - to know exactly what it had done to him. 

“I’m still- still sorry,” Newt sniffed.

When he looked over, he could see the pain in Thomas’s eyes and the unspilled tears that swam in them.

It just wasn’t fair. Any of it. But if Thomas was right and they were safe, maybe it would finally, finally be over. All the fighting, all the running, all the fear. Over.

“Come ‘ere,” Newt whispered, gesturing with his hand, and wrapping his arms around Thomas in a gentle embrace.

He felt like home.

“Thank you, Tommy. For everything,” Newt mumbled.

“Don’t thank me,” Thomas replied, “If you had died, it would have broken me. So thank _you_ , Newt. For fighting it, even though it hurts.”

When Thomas pulled away, Newt reached his hand as another memory came into his head - unlike the violence of the others, this was subtle and fuzzy around the edges. Just three words, echoing through his head.

_I need you._

-

“How long was I out for?” Newt asked.

Thomas started counting back on his fingers, lips moving and forehead creasing in concentration, “From when you were shot, almost twenty-four hours, actually. You did wake up on the Berg for less than a minute…”

“I don’t remember that,” Newt confessed.

The doctors had given him some more pain relief and changed his bandages and dressings, so Newt now felt comfortable enough to sit up in bed for the first time. Thomas hadn’t left his side, opting to sit on the wooden chair beside Newt’s bed while he watched the doctors fuss over his friend.

“You were pretty confused, actually,” Thomas said, a smile playing on his lips, “You thought you were in heaven when you saw Gally. Then you started asking for Chuck-”

“Oh, no…” Newt murmured bringing his hands up to cover his face, “Are you serious? Did anyone hear?”

Thomas shook his head, “Only me. The others heard me yelling at you when I tried to say that you weren’t dead, though.”

“You yelled at me, Tommy?” Newt asked, eyes glinting with mischief.

“Only because you thought you were dead! You were breaking my heart up there!” Thomas exclaimed. 

Newt’s breath hitched in his chest - it was statements like this that made his head hurt with confusion. Here was Thomas, looking at him like that and saying things like that and making Newt feel… _something_ and _everything_ , all at once. Did the boy even know what he was making him feel? 

“Hope I didn’t break it too bad,” Newt said.

“No,” said Thomas, “You didn’t. Hey, are you hungry? Frypan’s in the kitchens and it’s dinner at the moment.”

“I could eat. But Tommy, get yourself something as well,” Newt suggested.

Thomas nodded, “Stay here. I’ll be back.”

It wasn’t like Newt physically could go anywhere, but Thomas seemed to have forgotten that as he fled from the room to go and get them some dinner. Newt was starving - he couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten a proper meal, and he’d certainly missed Frypan’s cooking. 

-

“Frypan did good with that one,” said Newt as Thomas took the bowl from his hands, “Never thought I’d miss that stuff so much.”

“Hmm, me too,” Thomas said, discarding the bowls onto the floor by his bed. He helped Newt take a sip of his water, the weight of it too much for his weakened arms, and he felt a soft blush creep up his neck - Newt hated feeling so helpless and unable to look after himself, but he had to admit that having Thomas by his side made everything feel a little better. 

Newt almost jumped when Thomas placed a hand to his forehead, checking his temperature.

“The fever’s gone,” Thomas said, “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, just tired is all,” Newt admitted, already feeling his eyelids drooping slightly.

“You should go to sleep. It’ll do you good,” said Thomas.

Newt sighed, “I wanted to see the others after dinner.”

“They’ll be here when you wake up, and a long time after that. They’re not going anywhere, I promise,” Thomas reassured, already standing to help Newt lay back down. He snaked a hand around Newt’s waist, being careful of his injury, while he repositioned the pillows, before helping him slide back down onto his back, “Is that okay?”

“Yeah, thanks Tommy,” Newt murmured, sleep pulling at him almost immediately, “You should go see the others. While I sleep.”

“I’m not leaving you again…”


	4. the hospital

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt is visited by his friends in the hospital.  
> Not much plot, just Newt recovering from being shot and having the Flare.  
> But it does include two guys who are finally acknowledging their feelings now they're getting the chance :)

THOMAS:

“Thomas. Hey, Thomas.”

He jerked awake to see Molly standing beside his chair, a hand gently shaking his shoulder. Immediately, his eyes darted to Newt in fear that something had happened to him while he had been asleep - Thomas couldn’t even remember drifting off, but it was now dark outside and had been light before, so he knew that he must have.

“What? Is everything okay?” Thomas asked.

Molly smiled at him, “Everything’s fine. But you should go back to the dorms; sleep in your own bed. We don’t need you getting a stiff neck in that chair.”

“I said I wouldn’t leave him,” Thomas mumbled, running a hand across his face and eyes.

“He’ll be fine. I don’t think he’s going to wake up anytime soon, anyway,” Molly said, patting his shoulder once before turning her back on him.

Thomas took a breath, reluctant to leave but knowing that Molly was right and he really should sleep in his own bed - plus, his neck was beginning to ache if he was honest. 

So he slid off the chair and knelt down by Newt’s bed, careful not to disturb the boy as he slept. He looked so peaceful; so at ease. Thomas reached out and gently moved a stray piece of hair out of his face from where it had fallen into his eyes. 

“Sleep well,” he whispered.

-

Darkness had taken over the Safe Haven, and Thomas walked slowly back towards the dorm, allowing himself a few minutes to be alone. The only source of light came from the star-lit sky and the ever-shining moon above him - he’d never get over the way the stars reflected in the ocean, making it look as if the sky went on forever. 

He took a moment to check in with himself, sitting down on the last step leading up to the hospital and taking some deep breaths of fresh air. Thomas’s emotions had been all over the place in the last couple of days - from grief to panic to utter relief.

It made his head hurt.

But now it felt as if he could actually afford to acknowledge how he was feeling instead of brushing everything off like he’d been so used to doing. Maybe, for once, he would actually be able to act on it.

-

“Here’s the shank!” Minho called when Thomas entered their room.

It was a large space, enough to fit all of his friends with plenty of space for the new Immunes that were arriving tomorrow. Thomas shared a bunk with Minho who had demanded the top, in the far right corner of the room. A single bed lay empty beside theirs; Thomas had reserved it for Newt, and nobody had even tried to complain.

“Where have you been?” Gally asked, “And where’d you run off to at dinner?”

“I was with Newt,” Thomas said, “We ate dinner, then he fell asleep and so did I. Molly made me come back here.”

Thomas quickly changed into some different clothes, acting as pyjamas while the seamstress fitted them all out with something new, before he slid into the bottom bunk.

“How’s he doing?” asked Brenda.

“He’s doing okay. He wants to see you guys tomorrow,” said Thomas.

“Shuckin’ finally! Thought he’d never let us!” Minho exclaimed, “I miss that shank.”

“What makes Thomas so special, anyway?” Gally teased.

It was a snide, cutting comment, but Thomas's friends were in there defending him before he could even consider firing back a retort.

“Just because nobody wants you by their side-”

“Newt can do whatever the hell he wants-”

“Leave the shanks alone!” shouted Minho, silencing the group in a few words, “Now can I please just get some sleep without you slintheads all yapping on?”

There were a few murmurs of agreement before everyone found their respective beds and eventually quietened down. Thomas’s heart was bursting with appreciation for his friends; for them standing up for him. It made him feel good to know that they still had his back.

“Thanks, Minho,” Thomas whispered.

“Don’t mention it,” he replied from the bunk above, “Goodnight Thomas.”

NEWT:

“Speed!” 

“Oh, you little cheat!”

“Am not!”

Newt’s eyes fluttered open and he noticed Thomas and Minho sitting on the bed beside him, cards laid out in front of them. They were now arguing over the game that Thomas had clearly just won, and Newt couldn’t keep the smile off his face as he watched them.

“Uh, guys? Can you keep it down?” he asked.

Their heads snapped around to him and he watched as both of their faces lit up into genuine smiles, then images of guilt when they realised that they’d woken up Newt.

“Sorry,” said Thomas, now looking extremely sheepish.

“Hey Newt, good to see you. How are you feeling?” Minho asked.

“Alright. Mind helping me sit up?” Newt asked, causing Thomas to spring up off the bed before he’d even finished the sentence, helping him to slide up into a seated position, pillows supporting his back, “Thanks, Tommy.”

Minho was giving him a strange look that he couldn’t quite read so Newt frowned at him, but the boy simply shook his head slightly. 

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Minho said, “We were all so worried…”

“Well, that stops now, okay? I don’t need you all fussing over me,” said Newt, but he had to admit that he didn’t mind a little fuss and attention. Especially when it was coming from Thomas.

“Want me to get the others?” asked Minho, “I think they’re eating breakfast in the cafeteria.”

“There’s a cafeteria? But yes, if they want to,” Newt replied.

“Want any breakfast?” Minho asked.

“I’ll have whatever Frypan’s serving, because last night's dinner was heavenly,” he said, a smile on his face.

Thomas turned to Minho, “Bring us some, too, would you?”

Minho rolled his eyes and strolled out of the hospital, Thomas punching the air as he left. Newt couldn’t help but stare as he watched the genuine joy play out across Thomas’s face at the fact that his breakfast was being brought to him. Newt felt stunned at the simplicity and beauty of the behaviour - so much so that he couldn’t bring himself to tear his eyes away from Thomas, even when the boy had settled back down and realised that Newt was watching him.

  
“What?” Thomas asked, a smile playing on his lips, “I just really like breakfast.”

“I can tell,” Newt replied, but what he didn’t add was “It’s adorable.”

“How is it feeling?” asked Thomas, referring to his injury.

“Like I was shot two days ago,” said Newt, laughing carefully as not to strain his side, “But it’s feeling a lot better.”

Thomas smiled, bouncing his leg up and down restlessly, “I’m glad.”

  
-

  
“I have returned with a cackle of hyenas, and breakfast for two needy shanks, may we enter?” Minho asked, standing in the hospital doorway with a tray in his hands.

Newt snorted, “You may enter.”

Behind Minho entered Teresa, Harriet, Sonya, Aris, Frypan, Brenda and even Gally who looked extremely worse for wear. He smiled as they approached, swarming around his bed with more enthusiasm than he thought was possible.

“Hey, Newt,” said Brenda, “Good to see you.”

“How are you doing?” asked Frypan.

“I’m okay,” Newt replied, casting an eye over each person in turn, “How are all of you?”

Responses were fired back at him as Minho passed him a plate of toast and an apple, setting his water by his bed. Newt couldn’t help but notice the way Thomas dove in hungrily to his breakfast, finishing a slice before Newt could even pick one up.

“They’re allocating jobs soon because the last Berg arrives today with the last few people,” Harriet said.

“How many people are here?” Newt asked through a mouthful of toast.

“Hmm, maybe sixty so far,” Aris estimated, “But it doesn’t feel like that many because of how spaced out this place is.”

“I hope we get the jobs we’ve chosen. I really want to work in the fields,” Sonya said, and both Harriet and Aris nodded with agreement.

“There are fields?” Newt asked, “Tommy didn’t tell me this! What else has he kept from me?”

Thomas whined in protest, “Hey, I’m right here, you know!”

Newt gave him a sideways glance, challenging the boy to answer his original question. 

The boy sighed, “I wanted it to be special when you first saw it. I left out details so it would be a surprise like it was for all of us.”

They all stared at Thomas, mouths agape. Newt felt his heart flutter slightly, breath increasing in pace as he watched Thomas glance up at him then quickly look away. 

“Stop looking at me like that!” Thomas whined when nobody spoke.

“Thomas, you big softie,” Minho teased.

“I’m impressed,” said Frypan, arms crossed in front of his chest.

Thomas rolled his eyes, stuffing the last piece of toast into his mouth in an over-exaggerated gesture. 

But Newt couldn’t look away - it was like Thomas was the sun and he a sunflower. His whole stomach was full of hyperactive butterflies, threatening to spill out of him and reveal his secret. 

At this rate, it wouldn’t be a secret for much longer.

THOMAS:

Thomas was done for.

He could have kicked himself for saying that in front of all of his friends and now he had no way to cover it up. It certainly wasn’t helping that Newt was looking at him like that.

“Alright, that’s enough chaos for now,” Minho said, shunting the others away from Newt’s bed, “Let the poor shank breath for a minute, yeah?”

“We could do with changing your bandages,” the male doctor said in passing, and Newt nodded at him.

Thomas stood up as well, taking with him the crockery from their breakfasts, and gave Newt a small smile before joining the others on their way out of the hospital. 

Minho took one bowl from his hands, nudging him with his shoulder, “I think it’s sweet that you didn’t want him to miss out. Sorry if we made you feel uncomfortable.”

“No, you didn’t,” Thomas lied, “I just think after everything…”

“You don’t need to explain,” Minho interrupted, “I get it, I really do.”

Thomas smiled at him, but he knew realistically that he didn’t get it - nobody could. Well, maybe except for Newt. But that boy was always the exception.

  
-

  
“Hey, Molly?” Thomas yelled, chasing after the girl as she made her way across the Safe Haven.

She turned to him with a look of fondness, holding the exact piece of paper in her hand that Thomas was curious about.

“I was wondering about the job allocation,” said Thomas, “Newt hasn’t got to choose yet.”

Molly smiled at him, “A lot of people have already filed their requests, but the last Berg still hasn’t arrived so there’s some space. Has he asked for anything in particular?”

“No, that’s my point,” Thomas said, “He’ll wait until everyone else is happy, then take what’s left for himself. But I think he’d like to work in the fields, or in a position where there’s some sort of leadership involved. He was second in command in the Glade…”

“Ah, the mysterious Glade - I’ll have to learn a little more about that. But I will note that down for you. Oh, and Thomas? Have you thought of what you’d like to do?”

“I’d like to join the Fishers.”

  
-

  
The last Berg arrived that afternoon, the rumbling engine piercing through the quiet of the Safe Haven. To Thomas’s surprise, children had flooded out from the ramp along with a few others around his own age who looked just as stunned as he’d felt upon first seeing this beautiful place. Behind them, a few adults had come out looking worn out and battered from dealing with these children for the whole flight - Thomas couldn’t help but wonder how they’d ended up here and what exactly they’d been through. They were just kids, after all. 

He expressed all this to Newt when he’d finally plucked up the courage to return to the hospital after the awkward encounter this morning. At least, it was awkward for Thomas - Newt didn’t seem to mind. He’d even joked about being excited to see it after all this anticipation, causing Thomas to blush slightly, but managing to laugh it off.

“Can I ask you something?” Newt asked when their conversation came to a gradual slow.

“Sure,” said Thomas, biting his lip nervously.

Newt paused, taking a deep breath, “Why are you doing all this for me?”

“Doing all what?” Thomas asked although he already knew the answer.

“All this. Like, keeping me company, bringing me food, making sure I’m okay. You don’t have to do any of that,” Newt said.

Thomas nodded, “You’re right, I don’t. But I’m not just going to let you sit up here all by yourself now, am I? You’re my friend, Newt.”

_And I can’t bear to be apart from you._

“Molly told me that she had to tell you to go and sleep in your own bed,” said Newt, “Are you looking after yourself, Tommy?”

He looked up at Newt sheepishly, giving the boy all the answers he needed just in that one look. Newt sighed and ran a hand through his hair, causing it to spike up in all directions before he flattened it against his palm.

“After everything,” started Thomas, “I just want to make sure you’re okay. You have no idea how it felt after leaving you in that place and then remembering your note only to be left even more heartbroken once I’d read it because everything you’d said added up, and I couldn’t bear for you to think of me like that. I just want to make it up to you…”

“Tommy, you already have. I’m not mad at you,” Newt said, “I’m sorry about the note, I shouldn’t have ever written it or given it to you.”

Newt looked so dishevelled at that moment that Thomas wished he hadn’t mentioned the note. It was clearly a touchy subject for him, and the last thing Thomas wanted to do was open up a wound. And so he shuffled his chair closer to Newt’s bed and tucked his legs up under himself, facing his friend head-on.

“Can we just forget about the note?” Thomas asked, reaching for Newt’s hand, “I want to move on…”

Newt closed his eyes and took a large inhale, “Together. We can move on together. If that’s what you’d like.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’d like,” Thomas whispered, tears pricking the back of his eyes in relief and happiness both at the same time.

Newt nodded and squeezed his hand slightly, something that looked like joy playing across the boy’s face, “So tell me about this job allocation that Harriet mentioned. I’m intrigued.”

“It’s happening tonight, once the new people have filed a request. Also, I may have put in a good word for you…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's just one more chapter after this one!  
> I'm currently in the process of editing and finalising the thing I've been working on for a while now: a sequel to this story, with actual plot and character development and some original characters. (Over 80K words)  
> It's also better written so there's that as well ;)  
> But yeah, this story isn't over quite yet.
> 
> Thank you for all the views and kudos! I really appreciate it xx


	5. home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt finally gets out of hospital and learns what job he's been assigned to.  
> They carve names into the wall, and Newt tells Thomas how he broke his leg.

NEWT:

“Are you ready?” Thomas asked, offering a hand out to Newt who took it and hoisted himself up, slowly swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

He’d been given the all-clear to leave the hospital tonight, on the condition that he could walk all the way down with limited support. He was just so sick of this bed already.

“Yep. Ready,” Newt said as he carefully brought his feet to the floor and tested out his side for signs of pain. 

It was a dull ache, as if someone was squeezing him from the inside, but it was bearable. With one deep breath, Newt took all of his weight, reaching out to Thomas for support - the boy snaked an arm around his waist and Newt lifted an arm around Thomas’s shoulders. 

“You good?” Thomas asked.

Newt nodded, holding onto Thomas’s shoulder tightly but trying to make it look like he wasn’t in front of the doctor, “Yeah. Just go slow.”

As they neared the door, the excitement began to build inside Newt’s stomach as he realised that he was finally going to be seeing this place they now called home. With every shuffling step, Newt could feel the increased breeze tangling through his hair and gently lifting the strands. His breath caught in his throat as the entirety of the Safe Haven came into view - an orange haze cast over the moving sea, reflecting off every wave. Rich hues of red blended with oranges and pinks, the horizon a fuzzy line between sea and sky. Newt turned to Thomas but found that the boy was already staring at him.

“Tommy, this is…” Newt cut off, unable to think of an appropriate adjective to describe the beauty of this magical place.

He cast his gaze down onto the lawn where a campfire was lit and people were swarming all around it. For a post-apocalyptic community, it looked absolutely breath taking.

-

Thomas had patiently helped Newt down the few steps from the hospital and across the lawn to the campfire, not once hurrying him or loosening his grasp around his waist. He was careful to avoid the injury, but Newt could barely feel the pain anymore; his mind was fixated on the beauty of his new home, and the feeling of having Thomas by his side.

“Here’s my favourite shanks!” Minho called as the boys approached, clapping Newt on the shoulder, “Good to see you on your feet again.”

“Yeah, yeah. Not sure how much longer that’ll last,” Newt said, already feeling the effects of having walked the short distance from the hospital. His bad leg was aching and his whole body felt like lead, but he wasn’t about to give up because that would mean missing out on tonight.

Thomas helped him to sit down on the grass with the others, keeping an arm around him for support. Newt could feel the heat of the crackling campfire on his face, rebelling against the cool breeze that marked the first breath of autumn. 

The chatter died down when Molly stood up in front of the group, holding in her hand a piece of rolled-up paper.

“Thank you, everyone,” she said, waiting for absolute quiet, “Thank you. I’m happy to let you know that most of you will be doing the jobs you requested. There are, however, a few people I’d like to move around slightly. Firstly, Hugo…” Molly listed off a few people, assigning them to different roles, but Newt tuned out until he heard his own name called out, startling in shock.

“And finally, Newt,” said Molly, “You’ll be leading the gardeners.”

His head spun around to Thomas who had a small grin on his face, and he winked when he noticed Newt staring at him. So this was the ‘good word’ that Thomas had put in for him, then.

“But that isn’t all I wanted to share with you tonight. I know that most of us have lost both friends and family to get here today. We will never forget the sacrifices made and the people we lost along the way. So here’s to the ones who couldn’t be here. Here’s to the friends we lost. This place is for you; for all of us. But this…” she said, gesturing to the wall, “This is for them. So in your own time, in your own way, come and make your peace.”

Molly placed a small carving knife at the foot of the stone wall by the beach, illuminated by shards of orange light against the ever-darkening sky above them. Slowly, people began trickling down to the wall and carving the names of the people they’d lost for them to be here today.Sorrow hung in the air, but with it came a sense of hope for the future - a future free of fear and suffering, full of endless promise.

It felt like time stood still as Newt’s small group made their way to the wall, each person carving out a name, the chink of metal against stone a harsh echo through the peace of the evening.

The names ‘Rachel’, ‘Miyoko’ and ‘Beth’ were carved, then ‘Winston’, ‘Clint’ and ‘Jeff’. The knife was handed to Thomas who unwound himself from Newt, bringing the tip of the knife up to the stone and closing his eyes. He took a deep breath, and Newt placed a hand on his shoulder for reassurance - he already knew which name Thomas would carve. He didn’t even have to think about it.

“He deserved so much better than this,” Thomas whispered, only audible to Newt, “He was so much more than just a name.”

“I know, Tommy. And you know that, in your heart. As long as his memory is alive, that’s all that matters,” said Newt, placing a hand over Thomas’s heart, “But he’s still alive in here, isn’t he? And he always will be. So maybe it looks like just another name on a stone wall, but it’s so much more than that - it’s a reminder that he didn’t die in vain.”

His voice cracked, unable to keep the emotion from spilling free any longer. Thomas looked to him, eyes swimming with tears, and nodded once before making the first mark of the ‘C’.

And so ‘Chuck’ was carved into the stone, and the knife was passed to Newt. He was grateful that this last name had been left for him to carve - the name of the first friend he’d made in the Glade when nobody could remember a single thing about themselves. The name of the person who had pulled him from a dark, dark place and given him hope when he’d felt so trapped between those terrible walls. 

One glance over his shoulder told him that the others had backed away, giving them space to finish carving the names. With a deep breath, Newt positioned the knife against an empty space and prepared to share his biggest secret with the one person he trusted enough to tell it to.

“Did I ever tell you how I broke my leg?” Newt asked as Thomas returned his arm around his waist. He made the first mark, then looked to Thomas who shook his head.

“It was back in the Maze, around seven months before you came up. I was a Runner before I became second in command. There was one morning, on my day off from running, when I got up and I just felt so… numb. I could hardly stand that place, Tommy. So I wandered into the Deadheads, where all of the graves were for the boys we lost, and I just sat there. For a long time. Until something finally broke inside of me, I guess. I left the Deadheads and went straight towards the west door - the closest one. And I left the Glade, making my way through the Maze that I’d gotten to know extremely well. I didn’t stop walking until I reached one ivy-covered wall, and then I stopped… and I started to climb up it. I couldn’t reach the top, mind, but it was still pretty high. A beetle blade came up to me, and that was just the final straw. I yelled something at the Creators, and then… and then I jumped.”

Newt stepped away from the wall, looking up at his handiwork - ‘Alby’ was now etched into the stone wall.

“Course, I got completely tangled up in all the ivy - snapped my leg in three different places when I landed hard on the floor,” said Newt, “I thought that was it. But then Alby found me, somehow. And he picked me up and he took me right back into the Glade. We never told anyone the truth about what happened. He saved me.”

Newt looked up at Thomas who had tears rolling down his cheeks. Without a word, he helped Newt away from the wall and towards a quiet patch on the beach, before they lowered down onto the shingle. Thomas didn’t once let go of Newt, arm staying tight around his waist.

“Newt, I- I’m so _sorry_ ,” Thomas said, voice so full of pain.

Newt’s hand fumbled to find Thomas’s before he buried his forehead into the boy’s shoulder, “It’s okay, I got through it. Wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t.”

  
Moonlight illuminated the ocean before them, light glistening as it bounced along the waves. The sound of the waves filled the silence, and for the first time in a long time, Newt felt at home.

Here, with Thomas, in this beautiful place.

He was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh so this is it! I really hope you enjoyed reading, it means a lot if you've read to here <3  
> But fear not... this is not the end.  
> ;)  
> There's something new coming which I've been working on over the past few months, and I am so excited to share it! I'll probably post it sometime next week.  
> I explained a little bit at the end of the last chapter, but it's basically a continuation of this story six months later. I've written some original characters which I hope you love as much as I do. There are plot twists, near-death scenarios (I'll have to tag a minor character death, though...) and maybeeee a little bit of romance??? Maybe??  
> You'll have to see ;)  
> But anyway, thank you so much to everyone who's read my work, it honestly means so much. When I first posted, I wasn't entirely sure that anyone would actually read it so it's kind of crazy to me that people actually have.  
> The internet can be awesome sometimes.  
> xx

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> Let me know what you thought, I'd be excited to hear your feedback.
> 
> Stay safe x


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